The mosquito, quite ignored, would then have gone on in his deadly work.
Then for a time he slept beneath the mosquito bar in his tent.
You know as much about them as this d—— mosquito that is just now biting my nose.
You slap angrily at the place, and hurt yourself, but not the mosquito.
And during these days the bunkhouse at Mosquito Bend seethed with revolt.
I was ...